On the move - Farewell Watford, it's been great.

So, the house is full of cardboard boxes and it feels as if I have been in the loft for weeks.  References were made to shallow grave but I swear that the drilling was to dismantle some shelves.  We have lived in this welcoming house in a lovely terrace in North Watford for 13 years but it's now time for a new adventure.  Heading a bit further North to Totternhoe on Tuesday we leave a heap of memories and some truly brilliant neighbours and friends.  The people 5 doors away who shared our cat for a time and who we have enjoyed the company of ever since, either side who have taken in parcels, plied us with Sloe gin and have experienced goldfinch envy as our tree in the garden has been loaded down with up to 10 of the fighting little blighters at times. 

Here are just a few photos from the collection to show what a great town this is and here's hoping that the house that has looked after us for the last 13 years proves as friendly and welcoming to the new family that will be moving in.

 

And to finish, a poem from Margaret Atwood

The Moment

The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,

is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can't breathe.

No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.

Margaret Atwood